


my heart has wings and i can fly

by malicecharity



Series: Fair Game Stories [5]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Atlas Masquerade Ball, Day 6: Atlas Ball, Fair Game Week 2020, Getting Together, Loosely based off Cinderella, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23248105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malicecharity/pseuds/malicecharity
Summary: Qrow opens the envelope. Across the top in elegant lettering reads: “You are cordially invited to attend the annual Atlas Academy fundraiser masquerade ball this Friday, from 8 P.M. to 1 A.M.” In smaller lettering below, it reads: “Black tie––no weapons permitted––please wear masks.”God dammit.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Fair Game Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665880
Comments: 11
Kudos: 112





	my heart has wings and i can fly

“Uncle Qrow, look!” Ruby squeals, excitedly shoving a tattered envelope in his face. “Can you believe it? I can’t wait!” She waves it around, and he plucks it out of her hand amusedly, shaking his head. Her smile is blinding and he can see in her face the same unstoppable enthusiasm that he remembers from her childhood. If this brings the same sparkle to her eyes, it must be a good thing. 

Qrow opens the envelope. He immediately eats his words. 

Across the top in elegant lettering reads: “ _ You are cordially invited to attend the annual Atlas Academy fundraiser masquerade ball this Friday, from 8 P.M. to 1 A.M.”  _ In smaller lettering below, it reads: “ _ Black tie—no weapons permitted—please wear masks. _ ” 

God dammit. 

Qrow does actually like to go out dancing, but a masquerade ball? At Atlas Academy? It’s the sort of stuffy, rich people bullshit that people like Jacques Schnee (sorry, Weiss) enjoy. The whole affair is specifically made to cater to the upper class so they’ll donate to the school, appealing to their sense of whimsy by parading around the students and huntsmen in fancy suits, dresses, and masks. No thanks. 

He makes a face and hands the invitation back to Ruby. “Sorry, kid. That’s not really my scene.” Her expression falls into a pout. 

“But Uncle Qrow! We don’t get to spend that much time together anymore now that we’re off doing missions. This could be so much fun! Everyone’s gonna be there!” When she sees his remaining apprehension, she clings to his arm and gives him the puppy dog eyes she knows he’s weak for, but he’s still unconvinced. He and fancy parties don’t mix well, especially with his semblance. 

A hand on his shoulder surprises him, causing him to turn around and consequently send Ruby sliding to the floor, landing in a heap. The hand is attached to Clover, who’s giving him a pleased look. 

“Received the invitation for the ball, huh? That’s always a good time. Will you be coming?” Qrow coughs and blushes. 

“I _—_ I don’t know yet… haven’t made up my mind.” Clover raises an eyebrow and pulls away, walking backwards in order to get the last word in. 

“Well, I hope to see you there. Or maybe a mysterious stranger in a mask. As long as I can get in a dance, I’m happy either way,” he says, his smile simultaneously charming and disarming, before turning around and walking away. 

Ruby gets to her feet and turns to Qrow, eyes wide. “So… you’re going, right?” 

Qrow, still staring after Clover’s retreating figure with flushed cheeks, snaps out of it and scratches the back of his neck, diverting his gaze to the floor. “I _—_ yeah, fine, I guess.” Ruby cheers, and he rolls his eyes. “But only for a little bit! I meant it when I said it really isn’t my scene.” She ignores him and runs off, presumably to go work herself up into a frenzy with the rest of RWBY and JNOR. 

Qrow shrugs and heads to his room, briefly mulling over what he might wear before shrugging. He doesn’t own anything that could add up to black tie, so his huntsman outfit will have to do. James probably wants to flaunt all of the talent at the Academy, so the outfit will work out well enough in that respect. 

* * *

Based on Weiss’ face when she opens her door two days later, it does not work out well enough in any respect. 

“ _ What  _ are you wearing, Qrow Branwen?!” She shrieks, and the rest of team RWBY, busy getting ready for the ball, look his way. They all gasp, even the normally unflappable Blake, and crowd him. 

“It’s my huntsman uniform. What’s wrong with that?” He scowls and crosses his arms, suddenly self-conscious. Yang shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. 

“Everything. Everything is wrong with that, Qrow,” Blake says. 

“It’s a black tie event, you dolt!” Weiss cries. “Where’s your suit? Where’s your  _ tie?  _ The word ‘tie’ is  _ in the name! _ ” 

“I don’t own a suit or a tie! You think I was just carrying one around while we traveled by foot across all of Anima?” 

Weiss narrows her eyes and grabs his wrist. “Then you’re coming with me, you complete numbskull.” She marches into the hallway, dragging him along with her. 

Ruby pops her head out the door. “Weiss! Where are you going?” Weiss pauses for a moment and huffs. 

“I’m taking your idiot of an uncle suit shopping, since apparently he’s too useless to do it on his own.” Qrow bristles. 

“Hey! I’m a fully-fledged huntsman. People tell legends about me.” 

“Legends about how socially inept you are?” Weiss snaps, and he frowns. 

“Look, Weiss, you don’t have to take me shopping. I’ll just show up in this, it’s fine _—_ I don’t want to stop you from getting ready. There’s only a few hours until the ball.” 

Her grip on his wrist tightens, to the point where it’s painful. “Shut up, Qrow. I’m happy to do it, alright? Consider me your fairy godmother.” With that, she takes off down the hallway again, at a slightly accelerated pace. “Just don’t make me late, or you’ll have hell to pay.” 

Based on her family tree, Qrow doesn’t doubt it. 

They walk through the hallways at a brisk pace, but the moment they’re out the door, Weiss stops. She types something on her scroll and then puts it away, staring upwards expectantly. Qrow looks on, confused. “What are we waiting for?” 

A locker comes falling out of the sky and lands between them, popping open to reveal Myrtenaster. She takes it and then conjures a series of white glyphs. “Come on. If we’re going to get to my tailor in time for him to fix you up a suit that fits, we’ll have to go this way.” 

She sets off, skating expertly along the trail of glyphs over the edge of the cliff that the Academy sits on. He stares for a moment, and then cautiously places two feet on a glyph. He almost falls immediately; it’s as slippery as ice. Carefully he regains his balance and takes a step, which sends him sliding forward. He takes another, and as he gains confidence, starts to run forward more until he’s gained enough momentum to coast. The edge of the grounds approaches rapidly, and with a deep breath Qrow slides over. 

Instead of free-falling, he stays attached to glyphs that run down the side of the cliff. He holds out his arms for balance and gains more and more speed, which puts him out at a blazing pace when the glyphs level out again, just above street level in the heart of Atlas. He spots Weiss up ahead, pointing Myrtenaster in front of her as she conjures more glyphs in a winding formation to avoid cars, trucks, and trains. With a few pushes, he catches up to her. 

She notices his approach and shouts to him. “Got the hang of it yet?” 

The cold wind combs through his hair and flows over his face, reminding him of flying. Doing it in his human form is just as fun. Instead of replying, he just whoops. Weiss grins and then goes shooting ahead of him _—_ clearly she had just been going slowly to give him a chance to catch up. He smirks and starts to push harder. He won’t let her get away that easily. 

They zoom through the city, passing by ice blue buildings and streets at breakneck speed. Qrow can just barely see onlookers gaping in confusion and awe as they pass them by. He’s having so much fun that for a minute he forgets where they’re going, but then the trail of glyphs suddenly stop. Weiss, who is still ahead of him, flips to the ground in an expert landing. Unfortunately, Qrow is not as prepared. 

He goes flying dangerously fast, and only avoids splattering against a building by transforming into a crow and furiously beating his wings. He turns around and makes a quick descent before dropping onto the pavement as a human again. Weiss gives him a smug smile. “Don’t start,” he warns, and then follows her as she walks inside the tailoring shop. 

Inside, he’s greeted with possibly the most expensive clothes he’s ever seen. Pristine suits, pristine ties, and pristine shoes surround him. It’s overwhelming. 

Beside him, Weiss shouts, “Andrews? It’s me!” 

An older man dressed in a fashionable white button-down shirt and well-fitted black pants walks out from behind a corner. He turns and spots the pair, and instantly his face lights up. “Weiss Schnee? My, it’s been years since I’ve seen you! How have you been?” 

“I’ve been well. It’s so good to see you again. I have a favor to ask, though.” 

Andrews nods enthusiastically. “Anything.” 

“Tonight is the Atlas Academy ball, as I’m sure you know, and my friend here” _—_ she punctuates this with a pointed glance at Qrow “ _—_ neglected to get anything appropriate to wear. If I pick out a suit for him, could you fit it very quickly?” 

Andrews rolls his eyes. “Ugh,  _ men _ . Yes, of course I’ll help you, dear. Pick out anything you like.” 

Once again Weiss grabs him by the wrist and drags him about like a rag doll, searching for the perfect suit. She first looks at a white suit and, with a grimace, turns away, picking out a black one _—_ then a green one _—_ then a grey one _—_ then finally a crimson one, which doesn’t look too bad. She holds it up to him and squints. “It brings out your eyes, I think. With a white shirt… no, a black one. Black for sure. Here, come with me.” She picks out a silky black button-down and then shoves him into a changing room. “Hurry up!” She says, and rushes off, presumably to find something else he’s failed to account for. 

With trepidation Qrow puts on the suit. It’s been a long, long time since he’s had to wear one of these, and it feels strange. When he looks in the mirror he barely recognizes himself, especially without the cape on. He grabs the cape, intending to tie it around his neck, but before he can go through with it Weiss yells, “No! No cape. This is  _ black tie. _ ” Qrow jumps, completely unaware that she had been standing behind the curtain. He sighs and puts the cape back down, then opens the curtain. 

She smiles. “You look great, but the suit needs some work. Andrews!” She calls again, and he comes racing around the corner, immediately surveying the fit. 

“I’ll want to take in the waist of the jacket and the pants… maybe taper the pants as well. If you come back in two hours I should be done.” Qrow blanches. 

“But _—_ Weiss needs to get ready for the ball! Two hours?!” 

Andrews sighs. “I’ll work as quickly as I can. If you stay here it might take less time.” 

Qrow turns to Weiss. “You get back to the Academy and finish getting ready. I’ll wait here for the suit.”

She gives him a relieved smile. “Okay. Just make sure you come back to our room as soon as you’re done so I can fix whatever it is you’ve inevitably messed up before we go to the ball. I left your shoes over there, and here’s your handkerchief, your cufflinks, and your mask. ” She puts all three in his hands. The handkerchief is an elegant, sleek black; the cufflinks are silver crosses, uncannily similar to the ones in his outfit; and the mask is black and shiny, adorned with delicate metalwork that resembles feathers. 

He looks up at her and quirks an eyebrow. “What, no tie? You were insisting on it earlier.” She shrugs. 

“A little rebellion looks good on you,” she says, and then turns to Andrews. “The whole affair is on me.” He shakes his head, refusing. 

“No, no, Weiss. For a friend, it’s on the house.” She opens her mouth to argue, but Andrews gives her a look, and she smiles gratefully before running out the door, conjuring her glyphs and gliding away. Qrow changes and gives the suit to Andrews, who promptly sits down to work. 

Just over an hour and a half later, after much modeling, Andrews makes Qrow try on the suit for the last time. It’s much slimmer and hugs closer to his waist and legs, which is honestly sort of flattering. He smiles at his reflection. “This is great. You sure you don’t want me to pay, because I can _—_ ” Andrews shakes his head. 

“I’m glad you like it. Now put on your shoes and get the hell out of here.” Qrow chuckles in surprise, slips on the shoes, and quickly grabs the mask before running out the door. He ducks into an alleyway and then turns into a crow, zipping towards the Academy. There’s only about half an hour until the ball starts, and he knows the girls will eviscerate him if he’s late or, worse, if he makes them late waiting for him. 

He flies up to the window where he knows team RWBY is still getting ready and lands on the sill. Inside, the girls _—_ all in their dresses except for Yang, in her suit _—_ are putting on makeup and doing hair. He taps on the window with his beak and Blake, sitting the closest, opens it. He flies inside and transforms back into his regular form. 

“Oh my god, Uncle Qrow! You look amazing,” Ruby squeals, coming to his side to fawn over his outfit. “I love the red and the black together. It totally complements your eyes and your hair!” 

Qrow looks to Weiss. “You have your partner to thank for that one, kiddo.” Weiss nods at him, clearly pleased. Yang gets up from the desk, where she’s doing her makeup, and gives him a once-over. She smirks, walking over. 

“Hm. Looks good, but I think I could add some finishing touches.” With that, she reaches for his collar and undoes one _—_ two _—_ three buttons. He looks down. 

“Who do you think I am, Yang?” He says with an amused grin. She smiles deviously. 

“A man who needs to get the attention of a certain Ace Op Captain by showing a little skin,” she replies, and Qrow blushes. 

Before he can scold her, there’s a knock on the door. Ruby opens it to reveal Team JNOR. “Hey guys, just came over to see if you need any help since we’re all done getting ready,” Jaune says, and then spots Qrow. “Oh. Hi, Qrow! You look like you need some help.”

“I do?” Qrow says, not sure if he should be offended, and then Jaune runs away before he can get an answer out of him. The boy returns a moment later holding something, and then walks over. 

“You don’t think this hair just stands up on its own every day, do you?” He says, and then rubs some gel on his hands before combing his hands through Qrow’s hair, slicking it partly back but leaving a few key pieces hanging down in the front. Nora gives an approving nod, but then hums in apprehension as well. 

“There’s something else missing…” she says, rubbing her chin, and then brightens up. “I’ve got it!” She runs away too, and he stares after her, utterly confused. 

A couple minutes later she returns, something swinging from her hands. It’s Qrow’s old cross necklace, which he hasn’t worn since he came to Atlas. “Where did you even get that?” He says concernedly, but she declines to answer, instead choosing to clasp it around his neck and adjust it so that the cross hangs down just below his collarbone. 

He turns around to look in the mirror and smiles. He looks… way nicer than he expected to look. He feels actually confident in himself, which is a weird thing, but then his smile falters. He sighs and looks away. “I… I don’t know if I’m worth all this, guys.” 

“What are you talking about?” Ruby says, and comes over to put her hands on his shoulders. “Of course you are.” 

He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean… I’m a disaster at any party, especially a fancy one. So much expensive glassware, food, and clothes _—_ I’m pretty much a walking calamity. I probably shouldn’t even show up.” 

Jaune sighs. “Don’t say that, Qrow. Everyone wants you to be there, semblance and all. Besides, if some rich person gets their outfit ruined because of a falling waiter, it’s not the worst thing in the world. Probably pretty entertaining, to be honest.” Qrow chuckles weakly. 

Ren, who had been standing in the background, steps forward. “But if you’re really that worried about it, I could maybe help you out?” Qrow cocks his head, puzzled. “I’ve been working on developing my semblance, and it’s possible I could temporarily mask the negative effects your semblance brings for some of the night.” Qrow’s eyes widen. 

“Really? You could do that?” 

Ren nods. “It’ll only work for a couple hours though, if at all, so don’t be surprised when it comes back. Do you want me to try?” Qrow nods. Ren rests a hand on his shoulder and closes his eyes, focusing. They both turn grey as he funnels his semblance through their point of contact. Qrow feels waves of tranquility come over him, and he sighs as it soothes some of his fears and insecurities as well as the jagged edges of his semblance that he can almost sense in his soul. 

Ren lets go and takes a deep breath. “Do you think it worked?” Oscar asks. 

“Only one way to find out,” Qrow says. “Anybody have a coin?” 

Blake opens her clutch and looks. “Here’s one.” Qrow takes it and sets it on his thumb.

“Heads,” he says, and flips it.  _ Tails.  _

“Heads.”  _ Tails.  _

“Tails.”  _ Heads.  _

“Heads.”  _ Heads.  _

“Tails.”  _ Tails.  _

He looks up. “It worked,” he breathes. “I usually get them all wrong.” 

Ren smiles proudly, though clearly a bit worn out from using so much of his semblance. “I’m glad. It probably won’t suppress it completely, but...” 

Qrow shakes his head. “Even just a little bit helps. Thank you.” 

Weiss looks at her scroll. “It’s almost time to go. Everybody ready? Got their masks on?” Qrow puts on his mask and looks around, marveling at how well the whole group cleans up. Oscar, Ren, Jaune, and Yang look fantastic in their suits, while Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Nora are resplendent in their dresses. Qrow feels very proud of them, and also very old, seeing how much they have grown up. 

They leave the room and head down to the ballroom where the event should be starting up. When they reach the door, a staff member in a white shirt and black vest holds out a hand expectantly. Everyone except for Weiss, who is ready for this sort of thing, scrambles to find their invitation. Soon, they make their way inside, looking around in awe. 

The ceiling arcs high above, blue and white pillars contrasting starkly against the dark night that can be seen through giant windows. Standing tables draped with immaculate white tablecloths scatter the place, already surrounded with the Atlas upper class and huntsmen dressed to the nines. Waiters walk around with drinks and hors d'oeuvres on black trays. A large space has been reserved for the dance floor, at the front of which is a band playing a delicate classical piece on strings. 

In conclusion, Qrow really wants to get the hell out of here.

But the kids trepidatiously walk forward, preventing him from leaving, and with a sigh he follows them to find a couple tables to stand at. Nora darts off to find food the second the group settles down, and Ren follows dutifully after her. Yang immediately heads to the dance floor, Blake on her arm, and they begin to ballroom dance _—_ a lesson he’s proud to have taught her, so many years ago. He smiles at how skillfully she moves her feet, leading her partner around in graceful circles. 

Ruby looks a bit nervous and sticks close to Weiss, who is showing her how to properly eat the variety of fancy finger foods the waiters bring to them on trays. Jaune and Oscar start talking animatedly with… Marrow. 

So. The Ace Ops are here. 

No big deal. It’s not like Qrow only made up his mind to show up in the first place because Clover asked him to.

Well, not only that. He also showed up because it’s a  _ masquerade _ ball. With everyone wearing masks, there’s an air of anonymity to the evening, even though the masks do little to obscure one’s identity. The inherent mystery of the whole affair provides the opportunity for a fresh start _—_ one where he can finally give Clover a taste of his own medicine. The man’s been flirting with him pretty obviously for months now, and Qrow’s been a little too self-conscious to act on it. But he has a good feeling about tonight. Tonight’s the night something will finally happen, and he’s going to be the one making the first move. Tonight’s the night he’s going to start all over again. 

It’s difficult to pick out Clover’s face from the crowd because of the masks, but he leaves the kids and makes his way around, searching for a particular chestnut hairdo or a pair of teal eyes (or maybe biceps). It takes a couple minutes, but he spots him casually chatting with an imposing woman in a white mask who is certainly Elm. He takes a moment to admire the man. He’s wearing a black suit with a forest green button-down and black bowtie, and his mask fits his face beautifully, the flower details emphasizing his eyes. The jacket shows off the muscles in his arms almost more than when he’s sleeveless. 

He watches and waits until Clover nods to Elm and walks away, moving through the crowd. Qrow sees his opportunity and moves in closer until he’s just a few feet behind the man, and then gets an idea. He reaches for his semblance, which despite Ren’s suppression is still lying beneath the surface, and then using his willpower he directs it at Clover. 

Clover trips over a napkin on the ground and starts to fall. Qrow from behind grabs his hand, stopping his descent, and then pulls him back up again with a hand on his shoulder. “Careful there, soldier. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” 

Clover pulls away, rubbing at his neck self-consciously. “Sorry. I’m not usually clumsy like that.” He looks up to see who he’s talking to and clearly realizes it’s Qrow, but before he can say anything, Qrow cuts him off. He’s got a plan _—_ here’s where the fun begins.

“So, what are you doing here? Are you a student, a huntsman, or one of Ironwood’s endless money piles?” Clover raises an eyebrow, confused for a moment, and then he grins. 

“I’m actually crashing the party. They ask for invitations at the door, but I’ve got an in with one of the waiters.” Qrow huffs in amusement. 

“Rebellious, huh? I like that.” He takes a step closer. 

“So how did you get in, then?” 

“The window,” Qrow says, and Clover chuckles. He takes a deep breath and braces himself, not letting his words falter. “I’ve just got to say, I spotted you from across the room, and I had to come over and tell you that you’re stunning. Would you give me a dance?” He says confidently, holding out his hand, and Clover blushes, actually  _ blushes,  _ his eyes wide. 

Clover looks at his outstretched hand, shocked, and then takes it. He looks back up Qrow. “I think I will,” he says, and then follows Qrow out onto the dance floor. 

Being the shorter one, Qrow allows Clover to take the lead, and is grateful that he does when one of Clover’s hands meet his waist. Qrow places the hand that isn’t holding Clover’s on the man’s shoulder, pulling them close together, and they start to move across the floor. Clover is as elegant a dancer as he is a fighter, just as perceptive and responsive. They move together in perfect harmony, falling into a comfortable pattern. The song they’re dancing to ends and another begins. Clover easily adjusts to the tempo and style change. Qrow looks up at Clover, whose teal eyes are gazing intensely down at him. 

“Good dancer. I’m impressed,” Qrow says, and Clover gives him a small smile. 

“Only because I have such a skilled partner,” he replies, pulling him a bit closer. “Seems you bring out the best in me.” 

“Oh, but how would you know? We only met ten minutes ago.” He says mock-innocently, tilting his head up a bit so that he can feel Clover’s breath on his face. 

“Call it intuition,” Clover leans forward to whisper in his ear, hand pressing firmly on the small of Qrow’s back until their torsos are nearly touching. Qrow smiles and then loses himself in the dancing, happy to wile away what was certainly going to be an unpleasant evening until he was held in the arms of his partner. 

They spend the next several hours in much the same fashion _—_ dancing with intermittent conversation, mysterious and flirtatious in their make-believe scenario where they’re alluring strangers to one another, despite how clear it is that they both know the truth. A few times they take a break to fetch food or water and rest their legs, but throughout the evening they barely take their eyes off each other. 

Qrow is leaning against one of the tables casually, drinking a glass of water when the music shifts in tone from a more classical ballroom dance to a slow dance. Clover, who is standing next to him, looks over to meet his gaze. Qrow puts down his water glass and takes Clover’s hand. They go out to the dance floor, surrounded by countless other masked couples. In the crowd, there’s so much anonymity they may as well be alone. 

Once they find their spot, Clover winds a hand around his waist, pulling him even closer than they’d been before. Qrow moves one hand from Clover’s shoulder to wrap around his neck, and unwinds the other hand from Clover’s to place it on his chest. Clover puts his now free hand on the other side of Qrow’s waist and shifts until they’re pressed together. 

“Hi,” Qrow whispers, and his face is so close to Clover’s that he can hardly stand it. 

“Hi,” Clover whispers back, warm breath ghosting over Qrow’s lips, and Qrow closes his eyes. He moves the hand that’s on Clover’s chest to join his other arm where they lie over Clover’s neck, and then rests his cheek against Clover’s collarbone. They sway together, hardly moving, and Qrow relishes the warmth he feels from Clover’s body pressed up against him so close. After a minute, Clover rests his cheek on top of Qrow’s head, and Qrow can feel his chest almost overflow with affection. He never expected that when he came to Atlas that he might fall in love, but fortune in all its cruelty has managed to give him this gift. For a moment, he understands what makes life divine, and he never wants that moment to end. 

Still, as all things must do, it fades away with the song, and couples start to leave the dance floor. Qrow reluctantly parts from Clover’s tight embrace, just enough to see his face. 

“Would you like to go on the balcony?” Clover asks quietly, and Qrow nods. Clover’s hands slide off his waist slowly, and Qrow lets go of the man’s neck, hands gliding briefly down his chest before he takes a step back. Clover then grabs one of Qrow’s hands and holds it tightly, leading him to the door by the windows. He holds it open for Qrow, who lets go to walk outside. 

The night is cold and crisp, the breeze just brisk enough to bite at his lungs in the refreshing way that only a winter chill can do. He walks to the edge of the balcony and leans against the banister, looking out upon the lights of Atlas. The blue glow emanating from every window almost competes with the glory of the stars spilling out across the sky, hardly dampened by the gleam of the city. 

Behind him, Clover shuts the door, muffling the sounds of music and chatter from inside, and then walks to his side. He feels a hand on the small of his back again, and turns away from the view of the city skyline to look Clover in the eyes. A delicate and poignant silence passes between them as they take each other in. Qrow opens his mouth to say what he’s been thinking, but he’s interrupted by the sound of twelve loud gongs, signaling the arrival of midnight. They reverberate through the evening, echoing across the city. 

Once it’s over, Qrow once again builds up the courage to say what he wants to say. 

“I want to kiss you now, if you’d like,” Qrow breathes, and Clover sighs and looks away, a smile just barely tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m sorry. As much as it breaks my heart to say it, there’s someone else I want to kiss, and I’d hate to hurt him by being unfaithful.” 

“And who is this someone else you’d rather kiss, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“You’ve probably heard of him; he’s a legendary huntsman. Very handsome. Great sense of humor. Ridiculously long legs, though.”

Qrow grins wryly. “Oh, really? What’s his name?” 

Clover smiles indulgently and moves a bit closer, though he keeps the innocent facial expression going. “Qrow Branwen.”

Qrow smirks and reaches to untie the ribbon of his mask. “Well you’re in luck, because _—_ ” he begins to say, and then he’s cut off by the sound of a giant crash from inside the ballroom. 

Right by the window, a table stacked high with expensive glasses all in a tower and china laid out neatly has come crashing to the ground, spilling their contents everywhere and smashing delicate crystal all over the floor. The party inside comes to a halt, people throughout the hall gasping in horror and a few even screaming. 

Qrow stares, shocked, and knows it’s his fault _—_ Ren’s masking has worn off, and his semblance has come back in full force to ruin everything, as it always does. He was a fool to have come. 

Clover peels his eyes away from the scene and back towards Qrow, about to ask what happened, but the man has vanished. In his place all that’s left is a black feather, floating slowly to the ground, and a fallen mask. 

* * *

Clover bursts into the hall, searching out a head of blonde hair or a pair of silver eyes. He spots Ruby across the way and comes sprinting over to her, ripping off his mask. She looks up at him in surprise and he rips off his mask, chest heaving. “Ruby _—_ I was with Qrow, on _—_ on the balcony, and then the table crashed to the ground and I turned around and he disappeared, I have no clue what happened to him or how he left so quickly, can you help _—_ ” he pants, but she cuts off his rambling with widened eyes and a concerned look, but certainly less panic than he’s expecting. 

“Well… I probably shouldn’t tell you this but you’re so worried about him, so… Uncle Qrow can turn into an actual  _ crow.  _ He probably got freaked out over his semblance and flew away,” she says cautiously, eyes shining with guilt, and Clover blinks. A _—_ a shapeshifter? 

Well, he doesn’t have time to unpack _all_ of that when Qrow is still out there somewhere, no doubt beating himself up about the accident. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “How can I find him?” He asks, and Ruby furrows her brow, thinking. 

“Sometimes he likes to fly on top of roofs or balconies so that he can think. You could check for him on all the high-up places on the Academy. If he’s not there, you’ll probably have to wait for him to come to you.” 

“I’ll look for him,” he says, and starts to walk away, but turns back around when Ruby doesn’t follow. “Aren’t you coming with me?” He asks, confused, but she shakes her head with a slight smile. 

“I think it’d be best if you were the one to find him,” she replies with a smile, and he nods, then runs off. 

He makes sure to go to his locker and grab Kingfisher; if he’s going to get up on the roof, he’ll need to grapple there. Then, he goes to a window and opens it, looking out over the steep drop down before taking a breath and climbing out, flicking Kingfisher to extend its hook. He lets himself fall before casting the line, and luckily it hooks on a spire. With a click of a button, his momentum reverses and he flies upwards, launching onto the roof above him. The ledge is somewhat narrow and there’s certainly a  _ long  _ way to fall from here, but luck is on his side and there’s no time to be afraid. He runs at a jogging pace around the entire perimeter of the ledge, searching for a man or a crow, but there’s neither to be found.

He looks up the side of the building. The next ledge is a long ways away. He casts Kingfisher as far as it goes, and it hooks on a window ledge about halfway up the distance he needs to go.

Clover really starts to question whether all this effort is worth it, but the thought of Qrow out here alone, on  _ tonight  _ of all nights, propels him forward. He flicks the lucky pin still attached to his lapel and adjusts his grip on Kingfisher’s handle, then presses the button, sending him flying upwards once more. He goes soaring past the window ledge and finds himself completely unattached, falling through space. For a moment he wonders if this is what Qrow feels like when flying, and then casts Kingfisher once more, this time bringing him to the next level up. 

He scours the roof to no avail, and starts to lose hope. Maybe Qrow flew away, to somewhere else entirely, and Clover won’t be able to find him. But he can’t give up. He looks up to the last level: the top of the tower, where Ironwood’s office is. There’s a railing on the very top of the roof where one can stand and over the whole of the kingdom—a useful vantage point in the case of invasion. Clover’s been there before. He really hopes Qrow has too, because that’s the only other place he could be if he’s still at the Academy at all. 

With a deep breath he casts Kingfisher one more time, arms straining as he flies up. The distance is still too far to bridge all at once, and he tries to reach the roof while still in the air, but his aim is off and he ends up just barely catching a ledge with one hand. He pulls himself up slowly and braces his hands on the ledge, feet dangling. He needs to get his footing if he wants to reach the very top again. 

One cursory glance inside quashes that hope. Ironwood, seemingly in a retreat from the ball, is sitting at the desk in his office reading over reports with Winter at his side. Clover’s eyes widen and he lowers himself back over the ledge as quickly as is safe, doing his best to hide. The general’s back is to the window, but Winter is turned to face him and she has a view of the window from where she’s standing. In this moment, Clover  _ really  _ doesn’t want both of his bosses to see him grappling up the side of the Academy like a student on a dare. He cringes and waits it out for a minute, eyes just barely peeking over the ledge. His arms start to shake with the strain of holding on to the ledge, especially with having to hold onto Kingfisher as well. Right now it’s a choice between falling to his death and humiliating himself in front of his superiors, and he honestly can’t tell which one is worse. He sticks it out until Winter turns her back and then forces himself to let go of the ledge with the hand holding Kingfisher, casting it upwards and flying up after it as fast as he can. 

He reaches the roof quickly, and braces two hands on the edge of the banister, feet scrambling to get a good grip on the roof. Kingfisher falls out of his hand and clatters to the floor, and he very carefully gets his balance, then lets out a sigh of relief. That was way too close. Once he’s sure he’s not going to fall, he looks up, prepared to haul himself over the banister and onto the roof. 

Qrow, leaning against the banister just a foot to the left, is staring at him, eyes wide and jaw slack. 

All Clover can think to do is reach his hand in his pocket and fish out Qrow’s fallen mask. He holds it out toward the other man. “You dropped this,” he says, completely out of breath. 

Qrow’s shocked gaze slowly falls from Clover’s face to the mask in his hand. He tentatively takes it and looks it over for a second in apparent awe, then looks back at Clover. 

The mask clatters to the ground for the second time that night as Qrow fists his hands in Clover’s collar, forcing the man to lean heavily over the banister, and crashes their lips together. 

Clover makes a surprised noise, then leans into it, putting his hand on Qrow’s forearm to brace himself. “You stupid, stupid man,” Qrow murmurs against his lips between kisses, and Clover can barely find it in himself to be offended. 

They pull apart for a moment, and Clover opens his eyes. “Do you mind if I get on the roof now?” He asks, and Qrow laughs. 

“C’mere, you idiot,” he gets out between giggles, and Clover rolls his eyes exasperatedly before hopping over the banister and putting his arms around Qrow. He smiles at the man, and then his expression becomes more serious as he remembers the reason they’re there.

“So… what happened earlier?” Qrow bites his lip and looks away, eyes shining with anxiety, or maybe shame. He sighs before responding. 

“Before the ball, Ren helped to calm my semblance. Being able to forget about it for just one night with you was really great, but… when the table collapsed I knew that my semblance was never going away. It’s always going to be there, to ruin everything, and I just _—_ I just couldn’t be with you, knowing that.” He pauses and smiles ruefully. “Then you came up here, scaling the side of the Academy like a damn spider, and I couldn’t help myself.” 

Clover puts a hand on the bottom of his chin and gently moves him until their eyes meet. “Qrow,” he says, voice firm, “I don’t want you to ever worry about that. Your semblance is part of who you are. Even if it does cause you pain,  _ you  _ are not a burden and you deserve to be happy not even in spite of it, but because of it. I want to be with you, and all the bad luck in the world couldn’t stop me from wanting you. In fact, I just want you more because it only proves that you and I are like two sides of the same coin.” 

Qrow stares, looking shell-shocked, and then his expression becomes teasing. “You’re so sappy, Clover.” Clover laughs self consciously and scratches the back of his neck. 

“Your fault,” he protests, but Qrow is no longer listening because he’s leaning in to kiss him again. Clover obliges for a moment before gently shoving him back. 

“As much as it hurts to stop, I’d rather not be kissing you on the roof of my boss’s office when he is very much  _ in  _ the office,” Clover says, and Qrow laughs. 

“Okay, boy scout. Follow me, then,” he says, and jumps up onto the banister. Clover scoops Kingfisher up from the ground and joins him, balancing precariously on the top of the world together. They stare out at the Kingdom of Atlas, awash in a blue glow, and then at each other. “On three,” Qrow says, and takes his hand. 

“One _—_ ” Clover smiles, heart beating loudly in his chest _—_ “Two _—_ ” He braces himself, looking back out to the city _—_ “Three!” Qrow shouts, and they jump together, falling past Ironwood’s office where Winter will surely see them, falling past countless windows and rooms, falling into the night sky that promises endless possibilities for the pair. 

**Author's Note:**

> ok i realize now that the plot basically adds up to about the same as my other fic The Playing Field, but in my defense, cinderella. btw the title is from the song "So This Is Love" from the original cinderella movie. and when qrow says "we only met ten minutes ago" that's a reference to the broadway musical version of cinderella, because "ten minutes ago" is a really lovely song if you wnat to give it a listen. anyway, hope you enjoyed! im pretty happy with how this turned out :)


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